And Then There Were Three
by singingstarryknights
Summary: Proudly Introducing Eleanora Rosalind Sanders. Number 18 in the Ducks in a Row Series.


And Then There Were Three

Proudly Introducing Eleanora Rosalind Sanders

………

"Whoa." Sara sat up in bed, gripping her very pregnant belly. She winced as what she concluded as a contraction gripped her body, trying to remember what Catherine and Mia had told her. Breathe steady. Don't move too quickly. She turned to face Greg's sleeping form beside her as the pain subsided, and immediately decided not to disturb him. The poor man had just come to bed, after pulling a triple on a high profile double homicide. Sara eased back down against her pillow. She could handle this, besides, labor takes hours. It would probably be best to at least let Greg sleep until they started coming closer together. She reached over to the nightstand, and fumbled around until her fingers found the bottle of Motrin. Swallowing two tablets, she settled back in. They worked on period pain; maybe they would work on labor pain. At least until Greg got a few hours of sleep.

Four hours later, Sara was convinced she was in labor. No longer able to rest comfortably in bed, she climbed out, careful not to wake Greg, who was peacefully sleeping, looking more like a little boy than a grown man. She stood slowly, resting a hand on her abdomen, and made her way to the living room to check that her hospital bag was ready to go. Gripping the doorjamb of the bathroom for support as another contraction took hold, she caught sight of the duffel bag by the door that Greg had packed a week ago. Draped over the top, as if it was an afterthought, was his tattered old hoodie. She grinned at the sight, slowly making her way to the bag to double check it's contents for herself.

Satisfied that everything she needed for the rest of the labor and the hospital stay was in the bag, Sara moved slowly to the kitchen. She lost count of contractions, and had stopped paying attention to the minutes between them. Holding on to the counter for support, she let out a long breath, shaking off the lingering pressure. She made her way to the coffee maker, pulling out the stash of caffeinated stuff that Greg had hid from her earlier that week. She set about brewing it, pausing when a contraction took hold.

"Oh, now, wait a minute. Daddy needs a few more minutes of sleep before we can wake him up. You are just going to have to hold on in there for a little while." Sara rubbed her belly soothingly, cringing as another contraction seared through her. The coffee finished brewing, and she reached over, first grabbing a mug, then pushing past it and pulling out a travel mug instead. They were definitely getting really close together. Sighing at the prospect of having to wake Greg after a 36-hour shift, she capped the travel mug with steaming black coffee, and slowly made her way to the bedroom. Her fingers touched the walls of the hallway as she weathered another contraction.

"Alright. I'm waking Daddy up." She made her way over to Greg's side of the bed, reaching out to touch him gently. "Greg."

"Mmmpht."

"Greg."

"No, love, tell Gris I can't come in." She smiled warily at him, running her fingers through his hair.

"Greg."

"Mmmsleepin." He burrowed away from her touch into the pillow.

"Greg." Her voice was gentle and soft, the whole situation amused her to no end. "Gregory, the baby's coming." He rolled over, childishly wiping his hands across his face, and stared at her, wide eyed. She gripped the edge of the mattress as a wave of blinding hot pain hit her. Instantly, Greg was out of bed, and holding her.

"Really? Now?" She nodded, but shook off his touch.

"I'm sorry, Greg, I know you're tired." He was throwing on jeans and sneakers, pulling a tee shirt over his slight frame, leading her out of the bedroom in a matter of thirty seconds.

"Was that the first contraction?" His hand held hers, the other on the small of her back as she eased back down the hallway.

"No, they started getting really close in the last half hour." He grabbed the keys to his Denali out of the bowl, and bent to pick up the duffel bag, shooting her a disbelieving look.

"Why didn't you wake me up? Sara, what were you thinking?" He opened the door to the apartment, ushering her out, shutting it firmly behind them.

"You had pulled a triple, and labor takes forever to get started. I wanted you to have a few hours of sleep." They reached the Denali in the span of only two contractions, and she handed him the travel mug with the Harvard insignia on it. "I made you real coffee." He smiled at her, helping her into the car, climbing into the driver's seat.

"You were in the middle of labor, and you made me real coffee?" Greg turned the key, and pulled out onto the street.

"Well, the caffeine is the point, Greg." He laughed, reaching across the console to touch her belly.

"Thank you." He stopped at a red light, sighing in frustration. Sara bit her lip, gripping his fingers as another contraction hit her. She exhaled slowly once the pain subsided, resting her head against the back of the passenger seat. "I can turn on the police lights, if we are cutting it too close." She tossed him a smirk, and shook her head.

"No it's ok."

"Did you call the doctor?"

"Not yet." She ran a hand over her abdomen as Greg pulled out his cell phone, and they started to move with traffic again. After a few rings, he was put through to maternity.

"Hi, this is Greg Sanders, my wife Sara is having contractions about six minutes apart." Pause. "Yeah, Jan Hart." Pause. "About ten minutes out. Ok. Thanks." Greg flipped the phone shut, and dropped it in his pocket, turning on to another the next road. "How are you feeling?" Greg reached for the cup holder, and took a long drink of coffee.

"Sore." Sara took a few deep breaths, fighting off the almost paralyzing pressure of another contraction. "I'm ok."

A nurse from OB/GYN was waiting at the door ready to usher Sara to Maternity. She initially refused the wheelchair, but one look from Greg, and she eased herself into the seat before she was hit with another contraction. The nurse settled them into a quiet room, and excused herself to notify Dr. Hart of their arrival. Greg thanked the nurse, and as soon as she was gone, he turned to Sara, grinning excitedly. He leaned over, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"The baby's coming! This is incredible." Sara smiled at his excitement, pursing her lips in pain as another contraction hit. She closed her eyes, trying to ward off the pain, and felt his fingers run through her hair gently, the palm of his other hand soothingly rubbing her thigh. "You're going to do great, Sara Jane." When she looked back up at him, he had tears welling in his eyes, and a lopsided grin across his face. His eye gave him away, she could see worry and concern and fear and hints of excitement, and beneath all of that, there surfaced a brand of unconditional love he had spoiled her with since the day they met. She sat back against the pillows on the hospital bed, and accepted the kiss he dropped chastely on her lips, before smacking him in the stomach.

"Don't you get sappy on me, Gregory. I'm not going to cry." Moisture on her cheeks would argue otherwise, however, and she grinned at him as he chocked out a laugh.

"Mrs. Sanders?" Dr. Hart, an older woman with wild graying curls, walked into the room, glancing up from a chart, and closing the door behind her smiling. Greg turned toward her, watching as the older woman made her way to Sara, checking the monitor that the nurse had hooked her up to. "How are we doing?"

"I'm ok, starting to get really uncomfortable." Dr. Hart nodded, and smiled.

"We'll see what we can do about that." She turned her attention toward Greg, extending a hand, smiling. "You must be Dad."

"Yeah, Greg." Greg shook the doctor's hand, before she focused back on Sara.

"Not to worry, Sara, you're going to do fine. Let's see how far along you are, shall we?" Sara nodded, grasping Greg's hand tightly, and Dr. Hart settled down at the business end of the bed.

………

Two more hours found them slowly walking up and down the hall, in a last ditch effort to dilate the last centimeter. Sara had pushed away the epidural once she saw the size of the needle, an hour and a half ago. Greg walked slowly along beside her, arm wrapped around to the small of her back. She stopped abruptly, gripping his arms for support.

"Whoa." She rested her forehead against his, closing her eyes, as the contraction shot through her abdomen, settling a heavy explosion of pressure in her hips. Greg's heart broke as he watched her suffer the contraction, she was valiantly attempting to hide the pain in her expression of determination and concentration, but she was losing that battle slowly. Greg ran a hand along her shoulders and back, as she shifted to rest her head in the crook of his neck, an arm around his waist to steady herself. Greg pressed a kiss to her shoulder, feeling her inhale deeply against him.

"Bad one?" She let out the breath, slowly standing upright, to face him. She hastily wiped her eyes, falling short of hiding tears from him, as she nodded.

"I'm sorry, Greg." She reached up to touch the stubble along his jaw, pushing aside a scraggly curl from his forehead.

"Hey, hey, there's nothing to be sorry for. I promised you I would always be by your side. And we're having a baby. It's physically impossible to get me away from you." He placed a delicate kiss to her forehead, and she gave him a small smile. "How long until the next contraction, roughly?" She cocked an eyebrow at him.

"Minute and a half, two minutes." Her smile widened as he nodded, business-like, and bent to catch her in a kiss.

…………

"Get away from me." Sara shrugged off Greg's hand on her arm.

"Push on the next contraction, Sara." Dr. Hart's instruction came from the other end of the bed. "You're almost there."

"Greg!" The edge in Sara's voice had a desperate, pleading quality that sounded as if she was going to break down in tears. Greg took her hand, and ran his fingers through her mangled curls.

"I'm right here, you're almost done, love." Greg bit his lip as she tightened her grip on his hand, concentration all over her face.

"Keep pushing, Sara, you're doing great. The head's out." Sara winced as she felt Dr. Hart work at guiding the baby the rest of the way out. "Dad, want a peek?" Greg kissed Sara's hand, and peered over her knee, at his child being born into Dr. Hart's hands. Immediately he knew that it had been a bad idea. He had caught a glimpse of the shoulders coming out, and not that he had a problem with blood, his work had centered around blood for years, but the sight of Sara's blood, and that much of it, made him a bit light headed. He turned back to his wife, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

"She's perfect. She's got lots of blonde hair." Sara arched an eyebrow at him.

"You," she breathed heavily, "don't know it's a girl." Determination set in, and Sara gave one last push, per Dr. Hart's instructions.

"That's it! It's a girl!" There was a moment of silence, and panic stung though both Greg and Sara. Finally, a tiny wail came from Dr. Hart's arms. She placed the wriggling newborn on Sara's stomach, after wiping away fluids, and handed Sara a little blanket.

"Oh, Greg." Neither Greg nor Sara attempted to stop their tears, as Sara shifted upright, holding their baby. "Hello. We're so glad you joined us." Sara leaned over, pressing a gently kiss to the screaming, wriggling baby's head. Sara looked up at Greg, grinning widely. He kissed her, then turned his attention to the baby in her arms. Greg held out a finger against her tiny hand, and after a few moments, the baby grasped his finger tightly, still crying. Greg sat on the edge of the bed, leaning over to kiss his daughter.

"Hello little princess." Sara leaned into him, and they sat, marveling at the squirming newborn in Sara's arms. Greg glanced down at her feet, counting, and then at her hands, counting. "Ten fingers and ten toes."

"She's beautiful."

"She got a name?" One of the nurses stood on Sara's other side, pen ready to fill out the birth certificate. Greg tore his eyes away from his tiny daughter, and grinned at the nurse.

"Yeah, Eleanora Rosalind Sanders."

"Nora." Sara whispered, bringing tears to Greg's eyes. "We're calling her Nora."

………

A/N: Eleanora for Grandma Elsa, whose given name was Eleanora (I didn't explain that one, but there you go), and Rosalind for Rosalind Franklin, the physical chemist and somewhat uncredited co-discoverer of DNA, who worked just as hard as Crick and Watson.

More to come. Merci pour le reviews, as always.


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